Prince
by WinterDrake
Summary: Apocrypha has a new ruler.


**Prince**

"What are you doing here?"

The Dragonborn froze when she heard a masculine voice coming from somewhere in the strange realm. Somehow she had stumbled into Apocrypha, the home of the Demon of Knowledge. The woman had never been to this plane of Oblivion before but had read about it. It was not hard to figure out where she had ended up after getting separated from Frea.

"Who's there?" The woman questioned instead, readying her blade. Her longsword flared to life with it's lightning enchantment. She wasn't sure whether or not the voice belonged to an enemy and did not want to be caught off guard. It had an odd quality about it, echoing somewhat. She was couldn't tell where it came from.

The female warrior had come well equipped, bringing several weapons and a sizeable hoard of scrolls and potions. She didn't expect to find herself here but she was a cautious woman. She just hoped she had enough supplies to make it out of this place.

Instead of an answer to the Dragonborn's question, a fountain of darkness erupted before her. From it, a man emerged. He was clad in midnight black robes with gold trim. His face was covered by an elegant gold mask, reminiscent of some sort of sea creature.

The Last Dragonborn stilled, feeling the power emanating from the figure before her. It was rare for her to feel this uneasy but the presence of this man made her so. Who was he?

"Answer me, _joor_." The man spoke again. "What are you doing in my realm?"

"Your realm?" The woman could not help but say. "This realm belongs to Hermaeus Mora."

The female warrior looked carefully at the man before her. He could not be Hermaeus, could he? She was told this Daeda always appeared as mass of tentacles or just a sphere of darkness.

"Not anymore." The man explained coldly. "Now, if you will not-" The man paused without finishing his threat. He tilted his head to the side for a few moments and then relaxed his threatening posture.

"Ah, you are Dragonborn. I can now feel it." His voice was still icy but it had lost its edge. "Yet, you have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can weave."

"And you do?" The woman retorted. Who was he to question her power? She was chosen by Akatosh himself. She was Dragonborn!

"Of course. I was the first to wield such power, after all."

"You are Dragonborn?"

"The First Dragonborn. Also known as Miraak, or the Traitor to some." The man confirmed.

The female Dragonborn tensed, her mind racing. In her head, she cursed her luck. She might be in trouble. She wasn't sure she would be able to take this man in a fight. If he was truly the Miraak from the age of Dragons then she was likely severely unmatched.

Frea had mentioned him but she had not expected to face him as of yet.

"Your Master has given you Apocrypha then? Where has he gone?" The younger Dragonborn questioned.

"He is my master no longer. In fact, he is no longer anyone's master." Miraak responded.

"What do you mean?

"The Prince of Knowledge no longer exists." He stated calmly.

"That can't be. You can't kill a Daedric Lord." The woman scoffed.

"Believe what you wish. I have taken his place. This realm, and his power, are now mine."

"You're lying." The Last Dragonborn refused to believe him. It was impossible.

"How shall I prove it to you?" The man seemed amused at her denial. Without waiting for an answer, the man raised his hands. They began to glow and then something strange happened.

The world around them warped, everything running like ink. Apocrypha's landscape was moving and changing, morphing into something completely different. Even the ground beneath the Last Dragonborn's feet began to change. In a dizzying and terrifying transformation, the world became brighter and cleaner. Buildings began to form from, the murkiness of Apocrypha was erased.

No longer was there stretches of dark pools and books around them. There were exquisitely constructed buildings, flat ground and trees. There was order here. Beyond this piece of the realm, Apocrypha's murkiness could be seen and that made the change feel even more drastic.

There were also many hundreds of Seekers everywhere she looked, all with their eyes on her. Behind them were just as many Lurkers. The Dragonborn only recognized them from depictions in a book she had read. The book did them no justice, they were far more terrifying in person.

"Say hello to our visitor." Miraak's amusement could be heard in his voice.

The many creatures raised their hands in greeting, some grinning.

The woman swallowed. If they all attacked… She was done for.

"I am not Hermaeus Mora… But could a mere mortal change a realm like this? Could he command these beasts like this?"

The woman said nothing in response. Unsure of what to think or believe. It could be a trick but… It did not seem like it. The woman felt like this man was telling the truth. Something in her knew.

But how could that be possible?

* * *

Seeing how uncomfortable his 'guest' was, Miraak dismissed his minions. He could see the relief in the woman's face as the Seekers and Lurkers departed.

"It must be fate that led you here to me, Dragonborn. You will be useful." Miraak mused. He was already beginning to plan.

"Useful? I won't do your bidding." The woman retorted.

"You have no choice. There is no escape from this place, unless I will it. You are in my power now."

"Unless you will it? So you weren't surprised to find me here?" The Last Dragonborn challenged. She still wasn't sure what to think of this man but he hadn't been expecting her. That meant he may not as powerful as he believed.

"Merely an oversight. _Waking Dreams_ had not been properly dealt with. It has now and you will find that you no longer have it in your possession. Without that book in hand, you cannot return to Tamriel."

"We'll see." She'd check her pack just in case but there would have to be another way out, somewhere. Another oversight, as Miraak put it.

"You wish to wander this place? So be it. The inhabitants will not harm you unless you raise your hand or voice against them first. Be wary however, other than this piece of my realm you stand upon, nothing else has been changed. Its former master's traps still linger."

And with those final words, Miraak was gone.

* * *

The Dragonborn felt like she had been in Apocrypha for months, though at most it probably was a week or two. It was hard to tell. There was no way to tell time, or even know how much had passed. The days became a constant blur as she traveled across the realm.

The woman also found that she did not feel hungry, or even need sleep. She tried to do both but found that sleep never came and eating made her sick, like she was trying to eat on a full stomach. It surprised her how much not being able to do these few things got to her. Everything felt tedious and wrong. Sometimes she felt like she was sleepwalking.

There was also no one to speak to. The female warrior passed by both Lurkers and Seekers but they paid her no mind. She did not see hide nor hair of Miraak.

Finally, after returning to the new part of the realm Miraak created in his demonstration, the Dragonborn had enough. She found herself with no other option. There really was no way out.

The First Dragonborn had been right.

"Miraak!" The warrior called, exhausted both mentally and physically. "Where are you?"

Almost instantly, the man appeared once more. Before he could say anything, the female Dragonborn spoke.

"I want out of this place." The woman demanded.

"I've noticed." The man replied, his voice carrying his amusement at her situation.

"If you are done laughing at my predicament, how about you let me leave now?"

"As long as you accept whatever conditions I have, I shall be happy to assist you in leaving this realm."

"I will not serve you."

"Then you will wander here forever. Maybe one day I will take pity on you and let you out… But don't count on it."

"I'll destroy this place!" The woman snapped, temper flaring.

"And I can easily rebuild it, as you have seen. And might I remind you that the residents of this realm may not take too kindly to your actions."

"Fight me then." The woman then challenged, thinking of no other option.

"Fight?" Miraak laughed, the sound ringing across the landscape. "Do you think you have any chance against me?"

"When I win, you will release me." The woman continued, unperturbed. She had won against Alduin. She could do this.

"As you wish." The man voice became colder. The woman shivered at the sound. Despite the sudden rush of anxiety, the woman prepared herself.

* * *

The female Dragonborn lost. She lost badly.

"I yield." The woman panted, her breath coming in pained gasps as whatever vile, ink-black liquid burned her skin. She couldn't move. She could hardly breathe.

The warrior lay on her back on the floor. Her bones ached, her head swam. She had coughed up blood over the pristine ground, leaving dark stains.

After the woman spoke, the burning stopped. The substance coating her skin vanished. She forced herself to sit up, stifling a cry as she did so. Everything hurt.

The younger Dragonborn looked up at the wretched man standing a little ways off, looking rather smug in his posture. He looked no worse for wear. She had held her own but she had not been able to inflict any serious injury to him. And those few hits she had been able to land had been brushed off with a laugh.

A wave of dizziness passed over and though the woman tried valiantly not to succumb to the darkness, she was unable to stop herself from passing out.

* * *

"What do you want?" The Last Dragonborn asked some time later. She had woken up exhausted but alive and healed. She sat with her back against a building. Miraak sat nearby, as she had been unconscious he had created a throne-like seat for himself.

"Your obedience." Miraak stated.

"I won't be your servant!" The warrior retorted.

"Not a servant, a Champion."

"Just another name for the same thing with you Daedra." It was odd to be calling this… _Man_ that but nothing else fit.

"Maybe so. But that remains my demand."

"What will I get in return?"

"You wish to bargain? Being free of this realm is not enough?"

"I came here to free the people of Solstheim. I will not leave without doing that. You have them under your thrall, release them" At least she could give freedom to others as she lost her own.

"I will do no such thing." The man scoffed.

"Then I won't do as you ask." The Dragonborn replied. "You seem to need me."

"Need? No." Miraak warned. "I can always find another to do what I need."

"But not another Dragonborn." The woman argued, growing angry.

"Maybe not. But you won't be of much use in here. Serving me is the only way out for you."

"I don't care!" The woman spat.

And once again, Miraak was gone.

* * *

It was much, much later that the Dragonborn called out for Miraak once again.

* * *

Miraak was talking.

"I can no longer return to Tamriel like I had originally planned. Things have changed and so have my desires." Miraak explained. "I am weak, compared to the other Princes. I have no temples, no statues and little influence in Tamriel."

The Dragonborn wondered if Miraak's plans changed because he found someway to take Hermaeus Mora's power. She also wondered how he did it. She didn't think Miraak would ever tell her that little bit of knowledge. Maybe one day she could figure it out?

"I require the Temple on Solstheim to be completed. I wish for statues to be erected in my name. More shrines must be built for my followers." The man stated. "You will help me in this and tear down anything of the former Prince. Destroy his books, tear down his shrines, statues and temples. Hermaeus Mora is nothing now."

It seems like Miraak was a good fit to become a Prince. All of them seemed to want people to worship them. He was no different.

"What I require from you is to complete any tasks I assign you. I will not need you often, as you are unfortunately needed and I would rather not anger the other Princes, or even Akatosh himself. You are free to do what you wish when not completing one of my tasks, as long as you do not hinder my plans."

Speaking of Akatosh, she wondered what the Dragon God thought about all of this. Surely he would do something if things got out of hand?

"Serve me well and I will reward you. I have many thousands of years upon you. I can teach you things the Greybeards could never have."

The woman couldn't help but be curious of what Miraak said. Just what did he know? And he would teach her too?

"And since you care so much, I will vow that the people of Solstheim will have their wills returned... Just as soon as they finish what I need."

The Last Dragonborn took a deep breathe, knowing she really didn't have much of a choice.

"I accept." The Last Dragonborn felt a little sick after these words.

"Then so be it. You are my new Champion." Miraak's voice held a note of triumph. "Go forth, and spread my influence.

"Remember this, _Dovahkiin_. Disobey me and you will face consequences. Do not take me lightly." His voice became cold again and there was a long pause before he spoke again. The Dragonborn found herself shivering once more. "And now, you may return to Tamriel."

Another fountain of inky blackness erupted and the woman was engulfed. She then felt a burning on her left shoulder and shrieked, not expecting it. It felt like someone was searing her skin with a hot poker. As darkness engulfed her vision, the woman thought maybe this wasn't the best idea. She then heard Miraak's voice again.

" _It's too late for regrets now, Dragonborn._ "

* * *

In moments, the woman felt a sensation like falling back into her own body. She gasped in a breath, her heart racing. She was on her back, on the floor of Miraak's temple.

The Dragonborn closed her eyes for a long time, savouring the air even in this ancient place. It was not as heavy as the air in Apocrypha. It felt lighter, cleaner, more alive.

The warrior got up painfully, rolling her shoulders and stretching. She winced as she moved her left shoulder, it felt tender.

Suddenly alarmed, the woman quickly shed off the armor on her torso and pulled down the collar of her shirt to expose her shoulder. Her eyes widened at what she found there.

A mark. A brand. Whatever you wanted to call it but there it was. A sign of the Dragonborn's foolishness. A sign of her servitude to the new Prince. It was hard to see what exactly it was and warrior would have to check it in the mirror when she got home.

The woman cursed aloud as she re-equipped her armor. At herself, the Skaal, Miraak, everyone.

Here she was, at the beck and call of another Daedric Prince. And it just happened that she had run into him at the most opportune time. For him at least.

Sighing heavily, the Last Dragonborn began to make her way out of the temple. She quickly found Frea, and was confused when the Nord stated they had only been separated for a few hours. It seemed like time passed differently in Apocrypha. Both women then made their way outside, with the Dragonborn saying she had not been able to find any way to free Solstheim's people. Frea was disappointed as she had found nothing to save them as well. The Nord woman left hurriedly.

Though the female Dragonborn was ashamed she had to lie, she could not feel a bit of joy that she was talking to someone. Apocrypha had done a number on her.

Now outside, the woman once again took some time to breathe in the air. It felt amazing.

The female warrior could see that the people were still ensorcelled, working tirelessly on finishing Miraak's temple. As much as she hated doing it, she turned away from them.

They would be free. One day. As long as Miraak wasn't lying. And she prayed he wasn't.

* * *

 _Used a bunch of dialogue from in game. I had to change things to make it work. Not lore compliant, as you've read. ;p_

 _Thanks for reading!_


End file.
